


The List

by Liviconnor



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Boot Worship, Community: kinkme_merlin, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Foot Fetish, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Watersports, fruit kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviconnor/pseuds/Liviconnor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin finds a list in Arthur's chambers, he isn't quite sure what to do with it.  Luckily for him, he and Arthur figure it out.</p><p>Written for an anon on kinkme #16, who requested dom!Merlin and extra-kinky kinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The List

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't expect that the first fic I wrote to cross 10k words would be graphic pornography. But there it is, and I hope you enjoy. If something stood out positively (or negatively) please do let me know, so there can be more happy porn bunnies in the future!

Merlin came across the spare piece of parchment as he was sweeping Arthur's rooms. Arthur was in a meeting with his father, and though Merlin wasn't in the practice of reading Arthur's private correspondence, it was good to know what he'd be facing when Arthur returned. With that thought in mind, Merlin carefully unfolded the paper and held it up to the pale early spring sunlight.

 

fruit  
boots  
oil  
fingers  
penetration  
 ~~submission~~ submission  
shame

 

At first it read like a grocery list- as if Arthur had ever gone to market to buy his own clothing, or cooking supplies. But Merlin's eyes got wider as he got to the bottom, and realized exactly what this was. It was most certainly NOT a list of things one could get at the market. In fact, these were things Arthur couldn't get anywhere. Maybe someone like Merlin could. It might get around or earn him an odd look if his partner didn't agree, but he could still go about his duties and live a happy, normal life. But Arthur could never get the things he'd written down, probably couldn't even ask without it being trumpeted around the five kingdoms. Merlin shuddered at the thought, and went to burn the paper. He knew it was the right thing to do, but with his hand halfway to the brazier, he hesitated. Shivered.

Fruit. Boots. Oil. Fingers. Penetration. Submission. Shame.

He put the paper into his pocket and went about cleaning the floors before Arthur returned.

~o~

When Merlin returned with Arthur's dinner a few hours later, the prince was frowning at his table.

"Is something wrong?" Merlin asked.

"You're still a terrible manservant, isn't that enough?"

"I brought you dinner though. Look! Still hot!"

"Merlin, you are the only person here who considers that an accomplishment."

Merlin frowned, and put the tray down across the table from Arthur. "So you'd rather I eat it then?"

"No!" Arthur said, "Give it here." After he'd eaten and Merlin had nabbed a chunk of roasted turnip, Arthur said, "You know, you might be the only manservant I know who's ever made things less neat when he cleans."

"What do you mean! This room is immaculate!"

Arthur raised a highly opinionated eyebrow. "What I mean is, whenever you clean, you lose something."

"I found that sock yesterday, it was folded inside your jacket," Merlin said.

"Sock- what- nevermind. Today I was working on some papers, documents of state, grain reports. One of the papers is now gone, and I need to know what's happened to it." Arthur said.

Merlin could feel the paper burning in his pocket as he said, "I have no idea where it's been. Maybe the wind blew it into the fireplace." Arthur stared at him, pinned him to the spot with his eyes.

"Merlin, it was a confidential document that was not meant to leave this room. I didn't see any other papers on the floor when I came back."

Merlin busied himself with Arthur's finished dinner as he said, "Well, I picked some up after you left, and they were all over. It must have burnt up between you leaving and me getting in!" He flashed his brightest smile and made his way out the door. His hands were still trembling when he put the tray down in the kitchens, and all he could see were Arthur's eyes, pinning him down. Penetration. Shame.

~o~

He dawdled as much as he could getting water up for his master's nightly bath, but the servants who weren't cleaning up after dinner helped him fill and carry the buckets, and the big tub was full of warm water all too soon, a kettle heating over the prince's fire to top it up when Arthur was ready to get in.

Merlin coughed quietly, then knocked on the door to get Arthur's attention.

"Are you being polite?" Arthur asked. "Is this- tact? Are you sick?"

"Yes, sire, I'm trying out good manners. You may want to try them out for yourself, since you haven't any now. It never hurts to make a good impression!"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said, and went to strip behind the screen. Merlin heard moving fabric, and tried not to think. Boots. Fingers. He turned his head to fiddle with Arthur's nightclothes as he heard the other man sink into the hot water with a sigh.

"Hand me my washcloth, Merlin," Arthur said. Merlin picked a washcloth out of the linen cupboard and handed it to Arthur in the tub, and one of Arthur's hands grabbed onto the back of his knee. He jumped back, but Arthur held fast with one arm, while he used the other hand to- oh god- pull the list out of Merlin's pocket. He took his prize, unfolded it slowly, and read it, his mouth forming the shapes of each word without sound.

"You lied," he said.

Merlin gulped. "It just- it just fell, it was there on the floor, and I didn't think it was important, I just-" He shrank under Arthur's glare. It was a testament to Arthur's dignity that he could make Merlin feel so small, whilst he himself was sitting in the bath.

"You lied to me when I asked you a direct question, and you looked me straight in the eye. How am I supposed to trust you now?"

Merlin tried very hard not to think of all the many, many times he had lied to His Highness, the Prince over the years, but it seemed Arthur had moved on. "Well, you're clearly too stupid to be capable of espionage." Merlin's eyes went round.

"Spying! Your highness, I wouldn't, I never-"

"Clearly, as I said, you're too stupid. Anyone with talent or wits would have memorized it and burnt it, or passed it on, not carried it around like a bloody token." He paused, and looked not at the list, but at Merlin. "Why on earth did you keep it?

Merlin tried to think. Why did he keep it? "I'm not sure, sire. I just... wanted to, I guess."

"Just wanted to," Arthur said slowly.

"Yeah, like, didn't feel right to just let it burn away, but I knew it was yours and I couldn't let anyone else find it, so I just... kept it. With me," Merlin said, and waited for Arthur to order his beheading. Instead, he saw Arthur eyeing him contemplatively, and somehow this made him yet more nervous.

"Do you know what this list is?" Arthur asked. Merlin gulped, and nodded.

"Have you done any of them?" Arthur asked again.

"Maybe," Merlin said, then, "some. Not sure what you mean by 'fruit,' though, or 'boots.' That's a bit ambiguous." He tried and failed to look up from the floor, but on the floor were his feet, and his boots, and Arthur's boots, and if he looked at Arthur naked right now he'd probably die so... he focussed the wall.

"Right," Arthur said. "Right."

"Sire?"

"Well, now you know all my dirty secrets. Let's pretend this never happened, I'll finish my bath on my own, and you will wake me at my normal time tomorrow with breakfast. Hot," Arthur said.

"Right," Merlin said. "So I'm dismissed?"

"Goodnight Merlin," Arthur said with a wave.

"Goodnight sire," Merlin said, and went back to the physician's chambers. 

He nearly walked head-first into a night guard before he got his head out of the world where Prince Arthur- his prince, who he saw every day- had sexual thoughts about footwear. _Well,_ he thought, _better that than geese._ He sat his tiny cot and unlaced his boots, pictured Arthur's, trying to think of how mud-caked leather could ever be sexy, and failed. The rest wasn't too hard to picture; the crush of new peaches, the sweet juice dripping over lips and chin, the taste of another's mouth after gorging on sweet blackberries in August made Arthur's fixation on fruit positively obvious, though certainly not something Merlin himself had imagined. He knew from personal experience that oil made it much more pleasurable to bring himself off, and obviously Arthur would be expected to penetrate his future wife frequently, to create an heir for the kingdom. He worked his way down Arthur's list. Boots, fruit, oil, penetration, submission, shame, fingers.

With a blush he remembered every time Arthur had embarrassed him, and there were many, and wondered if he'd done it in a search for sexual pleasure. 'The feathered hat,' he thought, and shuddered before he got any further. There was no way even Arthur got off thinking about that stupid, fluffy hat. No matter if he was kinkier than Kilgharrah's tail. 

When his rather urgent erection made itself noticed, he thought firmly of Charlotte the weaver and her soft lips and curved waist and hips, and stroked himself, leaning against his bedroom door and biting his lip to keep quiet. But the thought that chased him into orgasm was Arthur's callused fingers, caressing that damned list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original prompt read:
> 
> Arthur/Merlin: pre-slash  
> Arthur creates a list of things that he wants to try but thinks its asking his bedpartners and even the ladies of the whorehouse too much. One day Merlin comes across the list and after a talk agrees to try them out for Arthur (he is a good manservant afterall).  
> Merlin expects himself to play the sub and is somewhat surprised when he will in fact play the dom  
> you can choose any types of kink, i'm open to all (extra cookies if you include watersports and foot fetish)
> 
> And if this was your kinkme post, please let me know so I can thank you!


	2. Fingers Oil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: dirty talk, fingerfucking, dom/sub play, masturbation

The next day, he brought Arthur his breakfast. He was five minutes late but at least it was mostly warm, and Arthur didn't complain.

The day after that everything but the porridge was warm, and he was even on-time, but Arthur didn't say a thing past the absolutely necessary.

The third day started off much the same, but the silent treatment and irritable tension were driving Merlin insane. He knew Arthur hadn't got anything but vague 'patrols' scheduled for the afternoon, so he made an executive decision. Grunhilde grouched at him, but caved nonetheless when he asked for extra lunch, and one of the maids even blushed, so he got to Arthur's room with a grin on his face and a skip in his step.

"You know," he said to Arthur once the door was closed and locked, "I know you'd rather pretend the you-know-what never happened,"

"Merlin, shut-" Arthur said, but Merlin talked over him.

"-but it might actually be nice if we didn't."

"-up right now. I don't want to hear it," Arthur said, stomping around his room uselessly.

"It's just, it doesn't seem fair," Merlin said, and he knew he had Arthur's attention if nothing else. "Anyone else could try out whatever they wish, and you're stuck with just this list. Have you tried any of those?"

"Shut UP, Merlin," Arthur said again.

"That's a no, then." He was met with silence. "Then..." Merlin said, and crossed his fingers and toes, and even his eyes behind closed lids when he said, "would you like to?"

He opened his eyes. Arthur was staring at him.

"Are you volunteering-"

"To complete that list?" Merlin said. "Yes."

Arthur scoffed. "You wouldn't even know how. How could you know? Honestly, Merlin, that's the stupidest idea I've heard from you, ever, and that's really saying something, because you're an idiot."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be rude; it was just an offer. A very polite offer, might I add, and probably the only one you're going to get. But you're a prat, and that's the end of it. Will you want your armor for patrolling this afternoon, or mail, or both?"

"Neither," Arthur said, "It's only the lower town, and if I can't protect myself from the citizens of Camelot without mail then I don't deserve to be first knight."

"Careful, Arthur," Merlin said, "Arrogance is unbecoming!"

And life between the two went back to almost-normal soon enough, and just for once they went a full week with no magical assaults, attempted coups, or inexplicable murder sprees. It was, in other words, an unusually calm week in Camelot. Merlin was surprised when the knock came after dinner, summoning him to the prince's chambers.

~o~

"I've changed my mind," Arthur said when Merlin arrived.

"Sorry?" Merlin said. "About what?"

"About your offer," Arthur said, and it took a few moments for 'which offer?' to click and settle in Merlin's mind.

"Oh," he said. "This couldn't have waited until morning?"

"Well, I just decided now," Arthur said, "and it seemed important. That you know, I mean. Because I've never- and tomorrow I'm free after lunch." Merlin knew this, since he'd checked thirty minutes previous. "And you might want time, to prepare."

"Prepare? For- oh, tomorrow. You want to do the list tomorrow?"

Arthur blushed, blushed, when he said, "Maybe not all in one day, no." But Merlin wasn't sure if it was the blush or the implicit agreement that make his breath suddenly short.

"Right. What do you want, tomorrow?"

Arthur licked his lips and looked down, then straight in Merlin's eyes. Merlin knew that face. That was Arthur's 'I'm going to fight the dragon now and probably die' face, and it was disconcerting to have it directed at him.

"I want submission, oil, and fingers. Your fingers. I have oil. I- " Arthur said, and then froze, swallowed, stopped.

"I'm used to following orders from you," Merlin said, but from Arthur's face he realized he'd said the wrong thing. "What kind of submission are you talking about, Arthur?"

"Not you." Arthur said.

"Okay..."

"Me."

"You?"

"Yes, Merlin. Do I have to spell everything out for you?" Arthur said, staring furiously at Merlin, then the wall behind him. "I want you to... take charge. Control." 

"You want to submit," Merlin said, wondering if he was hearing right. "You want me to give you orders, and use oil and my fingers on you, tomorrow," he said, and Arthur's blush rose as he nodded. "Okay," he said, nodding slowly as he reconfigured his entire understanding of that list, Arthur's sexuality, and his role in their relationship. "Okay. I can do that. Anything else?"

"On me, and..." Arthur paused, "in me. I want your fingers, in me."

"Oh," Merlin said, and tried to breathe through the burst of images that filled his head. "Right."

Arthur seemed to center himself, and squared his shoulders. "Thank you Merlin, that will be all."

"Am I dismissed?" Merlin said.

"Yes. Good-night."

"Good-night Arthur," Merlin said, and went to his room in Gaius' chambers to spend long minutes lost in thought, before losing himself again to dreams.

~o~

He fumbled his way through breakfast, looking at Arthur so carefully that he didn't hear Arthur's daily insults, but for once actually caught all the laundry thrown his way- even the last sock, which he knew Arthur only threw because he liked to make Merlin smell his narsty, sweaty feet.

Oh god, was the daily thrown sock part of the boot thing too? Merlin grabbed the laundry and ran, Arthur's shout, "And don't forget the sword this time!" following him down the hall.

Today was an armor-polishing day, lucky for him, and although he usually did this outside to enjoy the warm spring air, he stayed indoors today.  
Fingers. Oil. Submission.

He sincerely believed (hoped) that this was something Gaius' library did not include, and he hadn't the time to research anyways, so he lost himself in imagination. Would he want the oil on his lips, or on his chest? Would he want to suck Merlin's fingers, or feel them around his neck, or his cock, or digging in to the muscles of his back? Would he prefer to submit physically, kneeling in front of Merlin, or laying down as Merlin's foot rested on his shoulders while his servants' hands spread his legs? Or would he prefer to submit by following orders, doing as he was told without question or reason?

Merlin realized that he'd been polishing the same section of one gauntlet for ten minutes straight, and tried to get back into work. Do his job, as he was asked, as Arthur was asking him to do in just a few hours.

~o~

Arthur wiped the sweat from his body as Merlin put his practice armor away.

"That's enough," Arthur said. "I'm sure George will be happy to bring my meal today while you tend to this," he said, and waved a hand to encompass the entire armory after training. "Come to my chambers in an hour." Arthur gave a swift nod, turned on his heel, and left. Merlin looked at the armory- filthy, with shreds of broken lances here and there, and wondered if Arthur expected him to eat lunch before he came.

He sighed, picked up a broom, and went to work.

Roughly an hour later he was chewing one of Grunhilde's famous meat-vegetable-nut cakes on the way to Arthur's chambers. They weren't delicious, exactly, but one would hold him well until dinner.

He got to Arthur's door and briefly considered knocking before walking in as usual, closing and locking the door behind. Arthur was reading. He looked rather lovely, reading in the sun shining through his open windows, but it threw Merlin off more than a bit.

"Right," he said. "So, how do we do this?"

"How do we- Merlin, you're an utter moron. If you don't know how it works by now, I am very sorry for your future wife."

"No, clotpole, I mean," Merlin said, and then remembered, Submission. Arthur wanted to submit, and if Merlin wanted to finish that list, make this work, see his hands on Arthur's naked, golden, sweating skin, he'd have to start somewhere. Here. Submission. He squared his shoulders.

"Get up," he said.

"Why? I don't see where you're going with this," Arthur said, and Merlin didn't know where they were going with this either, he just knew that Arthur had to stop reading and start listening, and sitting at the table wasn't helping.

"Get up, now." He said, and Arthur looked at him, looked at the door, and swallowed. He got up.

Merlin shivered. "Come here, three steps."

"Through the table? Honestly, Merlin, you're pants at this," Arthur argued.

"Shut up. Come 'round the table, three steps, towards me." Arthur smirked, but came.

"Take off your jacket." Arthur did. "And your tunic." He did. "And your shirt." He did, and he stood in the light he'd been reading by a few minutes before, bare to the waist and smirking, smirking at Merlin, as if he knew exactly what was going on in Merlin's mind (Oh my god he did it now what, god he looks good, maybe I should-), so Merlin walked behind him, where Arthur couldn't smirk anymore. Blue eyes followed him, not nervous (never nervous) but watchful. Very, very aware.

Merlin got closer when he stood behind Arthur, where he couldn't be watched or seen. He knew Arthur could feel his breath, could probably feel how close he was. The prince had shifted to his fighting stance- feet shoulder-width apart, arms relaxed at his side, head facing directly forward, and his breathing measured. His breaths got just a tiny bit deeper when Merlin raised one hand and very carefully did not touch Arthur's shoulder. He didn't touch the side of his neck, or the space between his shoulder blades. He didn't trace the line of his spine all the way down to his loose trousers.  
He didn't touch, but he was close enough to feel the warmth from his skin, and feel it when the fine hairs rose on Arthur's arms.

"Close your eyes." He came around the front. Obedient, good. Arthur could fight with his eyes closed, blindfolded, but he closed his eyes because Merlin asked. He saw Arthur's lips slightly parted, felt his measured breaths and watched the prince's chest move. In. Out. Waiting. What next?

"Open your mouth," he said, on a whim. Arthur's lips parted a tiny amount.

"Really, Arthur, you're so used to giving orders you'd think you'd know how to follow them by now." He could see the response growing in Arthur's indrawn breath, so he said, "Open wider. And don't speak unless I say so."

Quirked-up lips opened a bit farther, and Merlin put one finger in. It was strangely intimate, to feel those soft lips against his fingers, be able to feel as well as see when Arthur's grin dropped into a circle around him, firm but not tight.

"Suck." And now Merlin felt teeth on his skin, Arthur's tongue curling, the texture and slide of it. He pulled out the finger, rubbed it over Arthur's lips in place of the kiss he desperately wanted to give as Arthur's mouth was left open, lips reddened and wet. But kissing wasn't on the list, and that was all Arthur had wanted. The list. Fingers, oil, submission. It took his breath away, just for a moment.

Almost absentmindedly, he put one hand on Arthur's shoulder, by his neck, and noticed the difference between Arthur's soldier's tan and his indoor servant's pale fingers. He ran it downwards, rubbed his thumb experimentally over Arthur's nipple. It went from firm to hard in the time it took for Arthur to swallow.

"Like that, then," Merlin said, but got no response from the prince. It was then that he realized exactly how much power he had- nothing but unconsciousness or sorcery could shut the prat up normally, and here he was being quiet because Merlin asked. He pinched gently, and said nothing as Arthur's eyelids fluttered, but took the huff of breath that came with it as a compliment, and worked both sides, rubbing and pinching lightly until he had his (well, Arthur's) brilliant idea.

The oily fingers prompted a tiny moan from Arthur, which made Merlin grin. Soon his hands spread, from fingertips on nipples to a spread-wide palm across Arthur's stomach, thumbs pressing into the gap of a collarbone, both hands on Arthur's sides to feel where the trousers cinched up at his waist. Merlin went round the back, to feel shoulderblades and follow Arthur's arms down to his hands, pulling them apart. His arms hung at his sides, not soldier-alert but relaxed and flat. 

When Merlin reached Arthur's waist this time, he said, "Take them off." His voice was surprisingly rough and low and he thought that, perhaps, he was using a bit of his Dragonlord voice of command. It would explain why Arthur was so willing to obey, he thought, then remembered that, if this was true, somewhere Kilgharrah could hear him. Merlin shut that line of thought off as quickly as he could, and saw Arthur step out of his trousers and braies.

And there he was, naked, a bit oiled, and now distinctly breathing hard. Merlin stood in front of Arthur, saw how his eyes moved behind his lids. His cock was already hard, standing out from his body a bit, and Merlin was... honestly a bit intimidated. He'd never touched another man's prick before, and while he certainly didn't mind the idea, even jerked off to the image of another man's body, and muscular legs wrapped around his waist while he thrust and came, he wasn't quite ready to try that yet. Not here, with the list and with Arthur.

"Touch yourself," he said instead, and Arthur lifted his left arm _(Left, interesting, Merlin used his right)_ and stroked tentatively, and Merlin needed more, needed feedback, hints, encouragement, anything.

"You can speak now," he said, and he half-expected Arthur to immediately whip out some witty remark, but instead he bit his lower lip and stayed silent. The chosen silence was, somehow, more distracting than speech. White slanted teeth dug into pink flesh, and Merlin remembered the feeling of lips-tongue-teeth on his finger, wanted it. He tapped his fingers against Arthur's mouth again.

"Open, suck." And this time Arthur opened wide enough, wrapped his tongue around and nipped at the two fingers Merlin thrust in. Tongue to soft flesh, teeth to nails, suction, and lips tight around his fingers. Arthur made tiny noises- huffs of air, half-released grunts when he sucked in time with thrusting into his own fist. Merlin pulled his digits free.

"Put out your hand," he said, and Arthur put out his right. "No, other hand," he said, and Arthur reluctantly let go his prick to put out his left hand, palm-up, and received a dollop of oil for his trouble. He started rubbing and squeezing at his cock, which now stood hard and red. He looked, Merlin guessed, ready to come just like this, but the list was not complete for the day if Merlin had guessed right.

"Stop."

"Mmfh," Arthur said, the first sound he'd made since Merlin's oily fingers had met his chest, but released his cock and stood at attention.

"Oh your knees," Merlin said, and Arthur eagerly complied. That was almost definitely a good thing, he decided.

"Head down, hands on the floor," he ordered again, and then, "spread your knees."

As nice as it was to see Arthur on the floor in front of him, Merlin had to get behind him- step over his back to kneel between Arthur's calves. He rested his palms on Arthur's lower back, and drizzled oil over his hands before he started rubbing it into Arthur's skin. He worked from lower back, deep into his hips, then into the muscles of his buttocks, at which point Arthur started moaning, and Merlin decided to speed it up. 

He dug his thumbs in, and spread Arthur's arse cheeks apart to run one oily finger from balls to the top of the crease. Arthur leaned back into the touch, tilting his hips so his back was curved sharply. Merlin dribbled yet more oil onto one hand, then grabbed onto one golden-haired thigh. With the other hand he rubbed oil into the skin around Arthur's anus, pressing fingers and thumbs into the tense muscles around the puckered skin before spiraling one thumb over the entrance and pushing, pushing in until most of his thumb was seated inside and Arthur let out a desperate-sounding noise.

"Breathe, Arthur. You have to breathe," Merlin said, and saw the blonde head nod slowly. "Does it hurt?" 

There was a long pause before Arthur said, "No. S'good. Mmmm, s'good." Arthur sounded sleepy, or drunk, and Merlin wondered whether it was the submission or the sensations that made him sound that way.

Merlin started thrusting gently with his thumb, in a tiny bit, then out a bit more, in and out, until he pulled out and changed to two fingers, stretching Arthur's muscles and making him huff and roll his shoulders. He started moving again, taking his fingers almost entirely out, then thrusting back in, his hand sliding in the oil on Arthur's crack, everything tight and slippery and hot. Arthur was grunting and shoving back, his breath coming in short gasps.

"Please," he said, and Merlin almost stopped his hand in shock, "please let me come. Gods, Merlin I've got to come."

"Yes, yes you can touch yourself," Merlin said, and immediately one hand snaked from under Arthur's head to his cock, jerking frantically until Merlin felt the tightening around his fingers and stilled, buried inside Arthur. The prince's back arched, then released as Arthur came all over the floor. He kept jerking for a few moments, then released a great breath and slumped. Merlin took this as his cue to withdraw, and went to wet some washcloths and wipe up as much as he could without disturbing the prince where he rested on all fours.

Finally Arthur heaved another great breath and sat back on his heels.

"That will be all, Merlin," he said, and Merlin stared at him, nonplussed.

Merlin shifted a bit in his seat, reluctant to stand. Arthur looked at him, looked down, and nodded.

"You may take some time to take care of... that," he said, gesturing at Merlin's lap. Merlin felt his temper rise, sudden and unexpected.

"And what do you suppose I do with _that_? Shall I walk back to my chambers with _that_? Shall I take care of that in the stables? Perhaps in the hallway, or the kitchens?"

"You know what to do with it," Arthur said.

"Yes, Arthur, I do, and if you think I'm going to walk halfway across the castle with _that_ then you're mad." Merlin snapped. "I did not just spend half the afternoon doing... you know, with you only to walk away with a pat and a thank you. I'm not a whore, and I'm doing this out of friendship, not, you know, and- Nevermind, I'm going." He grabbed one of Arthur's pillows off his bed, knowing full well that the crown prince of Camelot could hardly chase him through the castle stark naked to get it, and held it in front of him as he went back to the physician's tower in record time.

Gaius took one look at his scowling face and said nothing, and Merlin slammed the door behind him. He lay on his bed, face pressed into the pillow that smelled of Arthur, and wrapped his hand around himself. It was the hand that had just been inside Arthur, and the memory of that sight- tight muscles around his pale hand, Arthur's knees splayed wide, the desperate, needy sound of Arthur's orgasm- brought Merlin off with a choked gasp.


	3. Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: Dirty talk, mutual masturbation, mild bondage, D/s play

Merlin had plenty of time to think about it before the next command- request- came. In fact, he thought about virtually nothing else, which led to some odd results- one shoe polished twice, the other not at all; all of Arthur's candlesticks had the old wax removed, but only half actually had new candles in them. Arthur told him off for it, but he had a considering look as well, as if he was guessing the reason but couldn't quite be sure. Merlin didn't want him to ever be sure, to have proof, but still couldn't stop thinking.

Submission had gone... well, he thought. Aside from Arthur being a selfish prat towards the end, it had been the closest to 'real' sex Merlin had ever gotten, and the most stimulating activity he'd been a part of. He knew it was only duty, and tried to think of it as such, but it was hard, and Arthur's voice just before he came was very persuasive. Desperate. Needy. Aroused. One question remained- what would come next?

And if Arthur asked for fruit, what would he do? Merlin had asked the cooks what sort of fruits remained, and they'd shown him the dried produce and wrinkling apples from last year's harvest- it was too early in the season for anything but a few enterprising vegetables, and Merlin had no idea what to do if Arthur declared a penchant for apples in mid-April.

Luckily when the request came, it was delivered on parchment, sealed with Arthur's trademark red: 

_Boots, tomorrow after practice. They'd better be clean._

Lord only knows what Gwaine thought Merlin was up to when he stopped by asking about sexual uses for boots, but by the next morning he had a fairly good idea of what Arthur might want to do. Of course, this was assuming Arthur was like the majority... No. Arthur and Gaius had both told him the importance of having all the information before going into any situation. Merlin refused to go any farther until he knew more about that gods-cursed list. He squared his shoulders and walked towards Arthur's chambers with a new sense of purpose. Today he got answers, not orgasms. Or at least, answers came first.

~o~

When he arrived at the practice field the knights were just finishing practice. They were sweaty and smelly and covered with dust, and Merlin followed Arthur up to his chambers as usual. And as usual he removed Arthur's armor and outer layers before allowing his master to clean himself in whatever way he wished, and went to dress him again. The break from routine came after that, when instead of starting to polish Arthur's sword and armor, Merlin sat down at the table.

"Don't you have work to do?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," Merlin answered, "but I haven't the faintest idea what it is. You see, my master is a self-centered prat who assumes I can read his mind and do what he wants without telling me, and without me accidentally injuring him."

"You would find a way to injure someone doing that," Arthur said, but he lacked conviction. They stood in awkward, not-looking-but-looking silence, before they both said,

"It seemed obvious-" Arthur started, but at the same time Merlin said,

"Arthur you need to-" Merlin stopped, and nodded to his sovereign.

"It seemed obvious enough to me. It shouldn't need explanation, I've written it all out."

"What you wrote was a list, single nouns with no instructions or details! Do you want to polish boots, wear them, take them off, or eat them? I've no idea, you great prat, and you've got to tell me or I'll do it all wrong."

"You do have a habit of that," Arthur said, and Merlin scowled. Arthur looked at him, out the window, at the table, down at his hands, anywhere, shortly, in a futile attempt to distract himself. "Merlin it isn't that easy," he finally said. "I can't just- ask. It's not proper, not done. Maybe it's different in Ealdor, but here we have rules, and I can't just say- anything."

"Well, I can't go on without knowing what you want."

"I can't just go acting like- a wanton. I- I won't say it aloud, that's why I wrote the list in the first place."

"Well," Merlin said slowly, "what if I made you? What if you had to say it, or else?"

Arthur swallowed. "Or else?"

"Yes," Merlin said. "Like, you have to, because I say so."

"Oh." Arthur said. "Well, then I'd have to, wouldn't I?" It wasn't a question.

"Arthur," Merlin said, "give me your hands."

The prince held out his hands in front of him, and watched while Merlin went to the bed and released the curtains, then came back with the cord in his hands. His eyes widened when Merlin wrapped it around his wrists and tied a clumsy knot, binding his wrists together loosely. Then he pulled off his neckerchief and wrapped it around Arthur's eyes, with one corner flapping down over his face.

"Now hold still," Merlin said, and with shaky fingers he started to release the buttons that held Arthur's jacket together. Hard nipples showed through Arthur's thinner linen shirt, and Merlin laid his fingers against one of them. Circled it, and made as if to pinch.

"Tell me what you want," Merlin said. "When I shame you, what do you want?" Arthur hesitated, and Merlin tightened his fingers on that tender nipple.

Arthur arched his back and said, "I want you to tell me things."

"What things?"

"Dirty things. Like I'm a whore, not a prince."

"What else should you be?" Merlin asked, and made tiny circles with his fingers. 

"Make me your- nnh- your footstool, or your servant. Make me do things for you."

"What kind of things?" Merlin said, and pinched his nipple harder.

"Ahn- like, make me feed you, and touch you. Make me service you, make me filthy. Come on me. In me. Fill me with... things."

"Be clearer," Merlin said sharply, hoping this domination was the right kind. It was intoxicating. He rested his hand on Arthur's chest as he waited for his answer.

"Fill me with your piss. Make me drink it, make me lick you clean- mm, gods- make me wash in front of you, like an animal, make me yours."

"You're filthy," Merlin said, half in wonder. "Tell me about fruit."

Arthur smiled. "It's sweet, and soft, and juicy, like summer. I want to feel it inside me, overripe pears leaking juice down my legs, and cum too so I don't know what's which. Cover your dick in jam and suck it off, sweet. Not bad and dirty, just delicious." He said this running his tongue over his lips intermittently, wrapping his mouth around each word like he could taste it, lick it, feel it against his teeth. It was obscene, and Merlin took a deep, calming breath to counter the heat rising in his body.

He rolled his hips and looked at the ceiling- anything but Arthur's bitten-red, wet lips, as he said, "Boots."

The lazy smile he'd worn while describing fruit fell and Merlin was afraid he'd crossed some boundary until Arthur said, "I want to feel them on my face. The leather. It's soft and strong and shiny, and I want someone to step on me, hold me down while they hold me open and just see."

Merlin had a sudden image of doing just that- kneeling on his master and friend while he buried his fingers in his arse, making Arthur rub his face  
on his shoes, on the floor, and demanding something, anything of him. And Arthur would say yes, he knew. "And would you kiss them? Would you kiss the boots?"

"Gods, yes, I'd kiss them and pull the laces with my teeth," he said.

"And you'd polish them after, to keep them clean?"

"Yes, yes I would," Arthur gasped, sobbed, prayed.

"And then you'd come for me?"

"Yes," Arthur cried, and yanked at his ropes while Merlin hastily tugged him free, and took their cocks in hand, frantically rubbing and pulling and twisting until they reached desperate completion. Afterward, Merlin leaned back against the table, but Arthur swayed where he was, blindfold still wrapped around his eyes. Merlin reached one lazy arm to pull it back, and Arthur slumped into the closest chair.

When they could both talk again, Merlin said, "That was productive, don't you think?"

Arthur glared.


	4. Boots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: Foot fetish, boot/leather care, master/servant roles, anal sex, dirty talk, orgasm postponement, handjobs
> 
> There is an extra scene written for this chapter- sort of an overlap, if they decided that they were even more into feet than before- and it's posted after the end chapter. If you wanted your smut smuttier, so to speak.

Merlin was elbow deep in Arthur's laundry. He'd been hunting, and naturally he'd needed to wear several layers of not-brown clothing, so there would be the absolute maximum amount of washing to do. Why did hunting always require so much mud? He would have pondered this more deeply, but one of the maids came down at the moment carrying a sealed letter and a thick square of folded cloth. She passed it off with a sympathetic look at his drippy state, and until he finished Merlin had to stare at it and try to figure out what it said... whilst not accidentally opening it with his mind.

It turned out to say:  
 __  
Merlin,  
Since it has been noted that a more detailed request is helpful when making requests, here is my outline for our activities tomorrow evening, after dinner.  
-First you will bring me my bath.  
-Then you will work through item 'boots.' The boots are to be clean, and you are to wear them. I expect some modicum of creativity on your part as to what we shall do from there, since we have previously discussed the topic.  
-At some point we will include certain parts of item 'shame.' As several of these items are likely to leave a mess, you are to bring along the cloth, which is to be spread on the floor. If at any point I get off the cloth, you are to cease your activity and resume your duties as manservant.  
Needless to say, doing otherwise shall result in the stocks, immediately followed by beheading.  
-A

Merlin honestly wasn't sure how serious Arthur was about the stocks (probably quite, though Merlin wondered what reason he would make up to tell the king), and he was reasonably sure the beheading was only there for show... still, he was quite serious about the stopping. It was actually a relief, knowing that Arthur had some boundary set up, some way to tell-without-telling that Merlin had crossed a line he should not have. Since they'd been stumbling along so far with no guidelines or idea of what Merlin was to do, or how either of them was supposed to act, this cloth seemed like a very good idea. Merlin unfolded it to get an idea of how much he had- really not very much. It was almost as wide as Merlin's arms spread out, maybe a foot less, and square. And just like that, Merlin's mind was spinning off with what they could do in that space- kneeling, laying diagonally with legs bent. For the first time, Merlin found himself smiling a bit when he thought of the next night.

He had time to prepare a bit between dressing Arthur for dinner and when he returned- Merlin left halfway through, passing his pitcher off to Harriet, another servant senior enough to serve in the great hall. He spent his time filling the tub, half through magic and half carrying bucket after bucket up the stairs, hoping his boots wouldn't get too messy as he walked, since he'd brushed them off and polished them as thoroughly as possible before dinner.

When Arthur returned, sober but well-fed, he went into his bath as usual. Merlin studiously did not watch, acted as normally as possible, and when Arthur emerged, he handed him his towel, then did not hand him his night shift. Arthur looked at him curiously, but his calm face was belied by his eyes, shining and brightly blue in the flickering light.

"Kneel on the cloth, Arthur," Merlin said, and Arthur hesitated. "Kneel," he said, when Arthur looked like he was about to protest. The prince took the two steps necessary to get onto the wool square, and his demeanor changed. He dropped his eyes, and licked his lips as he looked intently at Merlin's wrists. He knelt, and his eyes fixed on Merlin's feet.

"My boots picked up grit, carrying water for an inconsiderate clod earlier today," Merlin said, and waited for the protest that didn't come. A tiny shot of power rushed through his veins as he said, "so they need to be cleaned. Alas, I've forgotten my polish, and I've no idea where the crown prince keeps his. Clean them, Arthur," he said, and extended one foot onto the cloth, waiting to see what Arthur would do. He honestly wasn't sure what would happen, but he was sure he wouldn't be disappointed as he sat down on a chair.

Arthur took it in his hand, caressed it, rubbed his hands along both sides to wipe the castle dust and bits of straw off the sides and bottom. The boots weren't highest quality, and had worn through far enough that Merlin could feel every pass of Arthur's fingers as he rubbed them along the soles, arch, and heel, then held his foot and wiped the dust and grit off the ankle and leg. His polishing here had been cursory, and his socks and the leg of his trouser tucked in so he could barely feel Arthur's hand, but the warmth from where his fingers held his heel bled through, and Merlin felt peculiarly relaxed. 

Arthur's fingers dug into his calf muscles a bit, and he unfolded the cuffs to clean several weeks' worth of dust out. Merlin blushed, but Arthur didn't comment- instead, he wiped it out, folded the cuff back over, and started to really polish it. He licked his thumb, and rubbed it against the leather. Merlin swallowed. Arthur looked up and gave him an absolutely _filthy_ look before he bent down, licked slowly along Merlin's ankle, and rubbed again, slowly and with intention.

"I don't think you're getting them much cleaner," Merlin bit out, and was embarrassed at how ragged he sounded.

"The outside is spotless," Arthur replied.

"Then how about the inside," Merlin said without really thinking. Arthur thought for a moment.

"I'm going to leave the square for a moment," he said, then did just that, and filled his washbasin with water from the bath, and his wash cloth. Then he knelt back on the square, and looked up at Merlin.

"Oh," Merlin said. Wise speaker he never claimed to be, but the implications were clear. "Remove my boots," he said, and Arthur grinned as he complied.

"Both?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," Merlin said, and brought his other foot onto Arthur's square. "And wash my feet. Both," he added for cheek's sake.

When Arthur washed Merlin's feet, he didn't rush it as he did his own. It wasn't clinical, as Gaius was when he washed an area to examine. Arthur washed his feet like a man undressed his wife, like it was something he wanted to savor. The water was still reasonably warm, and as he wrapped his hand around Merlin's arches under the water, Merlin had no desire to twitch and pull away as he usually did. He wanted to moan, and let Arthur do all sorts of unspeakable, unknown things to him, right in that moment.

He felt the cloth wrap around his heel, scrub lightly at the calluses that built up as he climbed stairs and walked through forests each day. The cloth slid under his foot, rubbing between each toe and scraping on the edge of each nail, and he felt a moment of embarrassment that he hadn't anticipated this and scrubbed before, until he saw Arthur's face. Arthur was completely absorbed in his task, eyes fixed on his job and nothing else, the same expression here as he held when training his knights. His hands roamed from toes to the ball, up to his ankle and along the side of his foot as he lifted one foot out of the water to repeat the treatment on his other. When he finished, he pushed the basin outside his square.

He lifted Merlin's clean feet up, and pressed kisses to the bones of his ankle. His tongue roamed between Merlin's toes, and he sucked on each one, biting gently as he released each toe. His thumbs dug into Merlin's arches, and his toes curled reflexively. When Arthur bit into the soft muscle on the sides, he had to stifle a moan, but the moan finally escaped when Arthur's whole mouth covered his arches and he sucked, kissed it with lips and tongue. Arthur's face looked blissful as he laid wet, messy kisses on the sharp bones of Merlin's ankles, and stretched the tendons there with careful hands.

This was the most attention Merlin's feet had ever had in their long, hard-working life, and Merlin found that they appreciated the attention. In fact, he almost fell off the chair before he realized how relaxed he was in his whole body- with the exception of one part, which was rigid and alert.  
Arthur noticed, and smirked.

"Enough," Merlin said, and mentally shook himself. "Wouldn't you know, I've just noticed where the prince keeps his boot polish." He walked over to the appropriate cabinet. "Since you've abandoned my messy, messy boots, you are to polish them now." The prince stared at him incredulously, silently. "I mean now," Merlin said, and sat down to watch.

"Do you seriously mean to-" Arthur started, but Merlin interrupted.

"Yes. You are to polish my boots. Now, sitting down or on your knees, while I watch." He watched to see if Arthur would protest, but he visibly swallowed a retort, shifted position, and started to polish.

Merlin knew exactly how long it took to polish a pair of boots thoroughly, and he knew that even if Arthur could sleep in a bit tomorrow, Merlin had things to do, like serve a grouchy prince, and as such he had no intention of letting the prince polish both his boots from toe to cuff. It was, however, a bit mesmerizing to watch the repetitive motion. Eventually, he had to stop.

"You are really bollocks at this, Arthur," Merlin said. "I mean, terrible. I think they were shinier before you started, honestly."

Arthur gave him a knowing look but said nothing.

"Service as terrible as this deserves some sort of repercussion. The stocks are too good for you. No, I think you need something unique. On your back, knees apart," Merlin said. Arthur complied, and Merlin noted with pleasure how careful he was to stay on his square. He needed to keep his knees spread quite wide to keep them from falling off the edge of the fabric, and ended up slipping and struggling to stay in place.

"Lift up your feet," Merlin said, "and bend your knees. You can use your arms if you need."

Arthur did, and Merlin was greeted with the sight of Arthur's entire body spread before him- legs spread wide, arms pulling them up so his feet were in the air and his back bent slightly. His head was pressed against the rug on the floor, Adam's apple clearly visible as he breathed deeply. But what really captured Merlin's attention was Arthur's firm erection, his high balls and tight anus all visible from where he sat like an invitation.

Take us. Use us. We're here for you, we want you to take us. Please.

It was dizzying, and Merlin wanted to just _take_.

"Arthur," he said, and he tried to change his tone from 'dominating alpha male' to 'friend you trust.' From Arthur's expression, it worked. "I really want to fuck you right now, but you didn't say. Is that okay?"

"Oh dear gods yes," Arthur said, "Yes, yes, yes, please."

Merlin grinned, and tried to get back into character. "Look at you, you're dirty and beautiful, look at how hard you are. You love this, Arthur. You want this. You want to suck my feet, and polish my boots, you filthy man. You're a terrible servant and you're so desperate for it. You shouldn't even be here. You should be a whore, with that beautiful cock." Merlin had no idea where this was coming from- he was channeling the filthiest things Gwaine had ever said when he was deep into his cups, and some of the guards, but Arthur's air was puffing in shorter, gasping breaths.

"Tell me," Merlin said. "Tell me what you are."

"I'm filthy," Arthur gasped, "I'm a whore, gods, I'm a terrible servant and I love your cock," he said as his hips rolled and shook.

"Why are you so dirty?"

"Because I can't clean boots and I love your feet and I want to be fucked, oh gods Merlin," Arthur said, and Merlin took mercy.

"Okay, let go your legs and turn over," he said, and ran over to grab pillows off Arthur's bed. He noted absently that there weren't many left. When he got back Arthur was on hands and knees, diagonal on the cloth, head resting on his fists on the ground.

"Where's the oil?" Merlin had to ask.

"I've some by the bed," Arthur said, and tucked the pillows under his elbows and knees as Merlin fetched it. It was expensive, mixed with beeswax to make it harden when cool. Merlin would have cared more if he wasn't about to use it on his cock.

"Spread your legs a bit," Merlin said, then scooped a bit of the honey-smelling lotion onto his fingers. As he watched his fingers circle the prince's arse, working the oil into the muscle all around, teasing and passing back and forth over the tight hole without entering, he relished the things Arthur wasn't doing. The prince wasn't crying out, or pressing back, or ordering him to get on with it already. His breathing was heavy but he was barely moaning with each exhale. The muscles of his thighs were clenching, though, and his toes were curled tight, and Merlin would have bet his magic book that Arthur was biting his lip nearly in half.

Merlin got more lotion onto his fingers, and rubbed more around and around Arthur's anus until it looked wet, oily up his crack and down to his balls. Merlin laid a kiss against Arthur's butt, and another, and another as he pushed a finger through that tight circle of muscle. It clenched around him, tighter than lips but just as wet with all the oil he'd worked in. When he felt it release he bent his finger a tiny bit, and felt the tight circle respond again- clench, and slowly release. On impulse, he bit into the wide plane of muscle beneath his cheek, and to that Arthur gave a quiet shout.

"Quiet, sire, or they'll think I'm making an assassination attempt," Merlin said, and Arthur laughed before either of them noticed the mistake- Merlin had dropped character again. He curled his finger and bit at once, and Arthur responded with a strangled moan.

"Making noise while I fuck you?" Merlin asked. "Bad."

He pulled out his one finger, oiled another and fucked him with two. Turned his hand a bit until Arthur suddenly bucked and moaned again and looked absolutely wrecked. Alright, Merlin thought, and kept going.

"Do you like that? Does that feel good? Are you getting off on my fingers inside you?" Merlin asked.

"Y-yes," Arthur gritted out.

"Is it because you want to be fucked?" Merlin asked, and started moving his fingers inside Arthur. The space was tight and hot, slippery but not the same as when he'd fingered a woman.

"Yes," Arthur whispered. "Yes, it is, please."

"Filthy," Merlin said, more to himself. He dipped more oil again, so his fingers were wet with it before he pushed three fingers inside Arthur. The squeeze was intense, crushing and unlikely on his fingers. He looked at his rigid cock, and at Arthur's sweaty bowed back, his mussed hair where he pushed his head into the ground. He looked at the tiny ring of stretched muscle that was pink and oil-slick, and decided, _yes_. Readjusting his posture, pulling Arthur's hips into place, and lining up his cock to Arthur's loosened hole was a minute's work, and slowly he pressed in.

Arthur made a breathy, exquisite sound somewhere between a sigh and Merlin's name.

Merlin said, "Nnng," and tried very hard to remember that this was a fulfillment of Arthur's wish for shame. "You like that?" He said.

"Yes, gods yes, love it, fuck me." 

"Like being fucked? Like being used?"

"Yes, I like it," Arthur said, and pushed back against Merlin. When Merlin felt Arthur's balls against his he couldn't resist, and started thrusting into Arthur, into his prince.

"You're a whore," Merlin said. "Say it, say you're a whore."

"Yes, yes, I'm a whore, I'm not a servant, I'll fuck anything, yes."

"Tell me how much you like it."

"God, I love- unh- I love being fucked. I love it. I'll- oh yes- I'll do it free, I'll- f-fuck- oh" Arthur said. Merlin thrust harder, faster.

"Are you dirty?"

"Yes, yes yes I am, like mud, like shit, gods please," Arthur begged, "please will you touch me?"

"No," said Merlin. "No, you'll wait." He took his time fucking Arthur, feeling the muscles tighten as he spoke, then relaxing again. He grabbed Arthur's hips, thrusting harder and faster as he dug his fingers in tightly for leverage. Arthur pushed back with against him, balls slapping and the sound of them filling the room as he felt his body tighten, the need grow, his cock getting that tiny bit harder until- his whole body jerked in release. Come filled Arthur's passage and Merlin thought he may have grunted, or even groaned in that white space between then and now- but it hardly mattered. He pulled out, muzzy and sated, and released Arthur's hips to run his fingers through the drops of come left outside Arthur's hole. Perfect. 

Merlin was brought back to reality by the urgent sound Arthur made.

"Still hard?" He said, trying for careless. "Still needy? Come here then." He gestured, not that Arthur could see it, but Arthur scrambled to sit next to Merlin and still on the cloth.

"Gods Merlin please," he said, and moaned open-mouth and wanton when Merlin finally took his cock in hand. He bucked, but Merlin went slow at first, stroking as he wished. Up, down, curl of the wrist- until Arthur was laying on his back begging ("More, faster, gods, Merlin, oh, just, more, I'll-"), and he had pity and pulled him off fast and hard, and the prince came silently all over his hand and wrist, and the rumpled cloth.

There was a long, sated silence afterwards, while both men caught their breath and recovered use of their limbs. Merlin took the washcloth and wiped them both off as best he could before replacing it in the wash basin. As he fed the fire and put away the lotion, Arthur slowly recovered enough to sit on his bed.

"Merlin," he said, "stop." Merlin turned. "Sit down. Lay down. Come to bed."

"Arthur?"

"Just, come to bed," Arthur said, and there was a certain vulnerability there that Merlin was unaccustomed to. He took off his shirt and trousers, and tucked them both into bed.

In the morning he woke warm and sated, and happy until Arthur pointed out that he was late for breakfast _as usual_ and truly he was incompetent. If Merlin grumbled slightly less than usual, it was clearly a coincidence.


	5. Penetration Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: Watersports, consensual humiliation/shame, outdoor sex, masturbation, dirty talk, anal sex

He tried to imagine, and then stop imagining, what Arthur would ask for next. It became his favorite fantasy, when he could take himself in hand, but he had to wait a surprisingly long time. It wasn't until the spring rains were almost passed, and the weather was more sunny than cloudy, that the now-familiar parchment arrived.

Merlin,  
Shame, tomorrow, outside. We'll spend the day in the Darkling woods, as it looks to be sunny. Meet me at breakfast-time. Bring food, lotion, water, wine, and soft cloths.  
-A

Merlin could think of a few things that could benefit from being outdoors, preferably by a stream, and spent the rest of the day focusing on anything else.

~o~

He met Arthur with their breakfasts wrapped in a cloth, outside the stables, but they didn't take horses. Instead, they started walking towards the wood on foot, eating in silence as they walked.

"So, what do the knights think we're going?" Merlin finally asked.

"Hunting," Arthur said.

"Right. So that's what the crossbow's for then?"

Arthur turned and said, "Yes. That's what the crossbow is for. Though if you were any more stupid I might just take you back and have the cooks serve you for dinner, since you're hardly smarter than a boar anyways."

"Hey!"

"Would you rather we use it for kindling?"

"No," Merlin grumbled. "I was wondering if we'd shove it up your arse, since you're such a berk sometimes."

"Classy," Arthur said.

"Always am!"

Arthur stopped them after an hour or so, in a cluster of pines. The needles carpeted the forest floor thick enough that nothing else grew there, and Arthur gestured off to one side.

"There's a stream off that way; go fill my spare waterskin," he said, and Merlin went, grumbling for show.

Sure enough, there was a stream. Judging from the banks it was usually fairly small, but with the recent rains it was running high, and icy cold. When he returned, he found Arthur scraping a clear area in the topsoil. It was just deep enough to remove the top layer of needles and cones, and to release the loamy smell of composting pine. When he saw Merlin's approach, he shuffled a bit. Unusual, Merlin thought.

"Why not use the cloaks?" Merlin asked, then realized, and said, "Nevermind. Don't want to get things dirty."

"I thought you'd appreciate the gesture, seeing as how you do my laundry," Arthur said, and Merlin had to hesitate. Something was wrong. No, not wrong, different. It was the list. Today Arthur wanted shame, but he didn't want submission. Or, he wasn't submitting.

"What do you want today?" Merlin asked. Nobody ever accused him of being subtle.

"I told you, Merlin," Arthur said.

"No, you were vague."

"No, I told you."

"No, you didn't."

"No, I-"

"Arthur, shut up! Stop arguing! Either tell me or tell me you're not going to tell me!" Merlin burst out. Arthur changed at the tone, bit his lip, and looked down.

"Right," Merlin said slowly, thinking. "Shame." Arthur waited silently. "You want shame. We're out here, where you can't be heard, where no-one's likely to come across and where we can make a bit of a mess and not clean up or answer questions." Well, all of this wasn't necessarily true, but Merlin put up a silent bubble around them to ensure privacy. "So you want something loud, embarrassing, and messy."

Arthur waited still, apparently happy to let Merlin think aloud and come to his own conclusions. Eventually, he did. He picked up the waterskin and took a long pull, then offered it to Arthur.

"It's a good thing I brought extra oil today," he said casually, "because I think we're going to need some time. I'll need some time, and I've been hoping to get my fingers back inside you for a while now."

"Me too," Arthur said.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes," Arthur almost whispered.

"It feels terribly tight on my side, to tell you the truth," Merlin said. "You don't get fucked much," or ever, his mind added, "and I wondered if I was going to fit inside you or not. It doesn't hurt?" He asked, actually curious.

"No. It's a bit odd at first, but mostly incredible," Arthur said, and he looked shy, of all things.

"Well, good," Merlin said. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," Arthur said.

"Do you like sucking cock?"

"What?"

"You've never tried, have you?" Merlin said. "Ever had yours sucked?"

"I cannot even believe you are asking me this."

"Haven't, then." Merlin took a long drag out of the waterskin. "I have."

"What." Arthur said, distinctly unpleased.

"Both, actually, when I'd been here about a year. One of the visitors during the tourney brought a squire, and after the competition was over he asked me. Said he couldn't back at home, word would get out, but he could here, so we did."

"And?"

"It was great," Merlin said, fighting to hide a grin. Arthur looked ready to rage. "Want to try?"

Arthur mumbled something.

"What?"

"I said, I'll do it if you'll do me."

Merlin thought. "Well, tempting as that sounds, I think today might work better for something else. Since we're in this nice, private area where we're not likely to be interrupted, maybe we could try something else. Something that needs you naked, first off," he said.

Arthur thought, then started stripping off, folding his clothes and putting them in a pile. Merlin was honestly shocked, but started pulling his pants off before he'd untied his boots and managed to make a complete arse of himself. Still, Arthur was busy enough trying to take off four layers of shirt that Merlin could figure himself out just barely in time.

"I don't want to get my fingers oily today," Merlin said, "so you should oil yourself up, stretch your own muscles enough that I can fuck you."

Arthur looked at him askance, but dipped his fingers in his jar of lotion and began to finger himself. Merlin took the waterskin and took another long drink of it, while watching Arthur work himself slowly open. Of course, he thought, Arthur would want to take his time. As a trainer of knights he knew the importance of not forcing muscles too fast, and he knew the different between stretching and straining a muscle. Still, from his posture and expression, it seemed like Arthur might be taking a little bit _too_ long. 

"Are you teasing, Arthur?" Merlin asked, "Are you displaying yourself?"

Something in Arthur's eyes flared. "What if I were?" He asked. Inwardly, Merlin grinned.

"Then I'm have to find some way to teach you that this is unbecoming," he said.

Arthur hesitated ever so briefly, then clearly took a fingerful of oil, bent so his arse was facing Merlin, and pressed his finger slowly in and out, in and out. It was most definitely unbecoming. An idea took root in Merlin's head.

"This is not the kind of behavior a young man should have," Merlin said. "A young man should be proper. He should be chivalrous. He should remember that his duty is to his wife and no other, and should not act lewdly. He should not disgrace himself, and make himself filthy. Do you know this Arthur? Do you understand?"

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur said. "But sometimes I forget."

"Then perhaps I can remind you," Merlin said. "Perhaps being treated like a chamberpot will help you remember to keep yourself clean."

Arthur's eyes dilated. "Perhaps," he said.

"Are you ready to be fucked?" Merlin asked.

"Almost," Arthur said.

"Then take the lotion, and grease up my cock. I'm going to fuck you now, like you are," Merlin said, and Arthur's breathing sped up as he obeyed, getting oil all over Merlin's cock and balls, before continuing to finger himself as well.

"Put your hands on the trunk and lean back, legs spread," Merlin said, and took another long drink of the water skin. Arthur faced the tree, an old one with a wide trunk, and leaned back obligingly. Merlin walked up behind him, lined up his cock with Arthur's shiny entrance, and pushed with his hips.

At first it seemed like it really wasn't going to work, like Arthur really wasn't ready and Merlin had pushed too far too fast. But then Arthur relaxed and pushed back against him and they both grunted as Merlin shoved in deep on his first thrust. Arthur's head snapped back and his knees gave out, but Merlin grabbed his waist and his hips until he stood straight on his own. He pulled out, then pushed back in hard, as deep as he could go, and from there they both lost track a bit of what was happening.

Arthur's arms collapsed, first until his elbows and forearms were pressed against the bark, then until every thrust shoved him against the side of the tree, and he had to use his hands to protect his erection from being scraped, but with the rush of endorphins that came with Merlin pinning him to the tree and just taking what he wanted, he hardly felt the rough surface. He was swallowing, panting, gasping, and every movement fed back to Merlin, whose chest was pressed against every inch of Arthur's back, whose legs kept his held apart, and whose cock stretched him wide open. Merlin's breath was loud in Arthur's ear, his teeth sharp where his bit into Arthur's earlobe, his hands surprisingly strong where they wrapped around his chest and hips. And when Merlin came inside of him, Arthur could feel the liquid heat inside, and it brought him that much closer to the brink himself.

But Merlin didn't pull back, or pull out. He grabbed tighter onto Arthur as he softened inside, pulled him back so Arthur was bent almost parallel to the ground, and said, "Hold still. I'm not done."

And Arthur remembered that he was still being taught a lesson. It was a lesson he'd asked to be taught, several months ago, but it was a lesson nonetheless, and he was to learn humility. He was to be a chamberpot- lower than servant, lower than whore.

He felt the first gush come after a considerable wait. It was hot, like come, but not jerky or halting. It came as a warm flush that filled him inside, first gently then too much, like a flood, and like a flood it overflowed. It went further within, but more down his legs, over his cock and balls, his ankles and feet, pouring and dripping everywhere.

"Don't let it out, chamberpot," Merlin was saying. "Can you not even do that? Do your duty," Merlin commanded, and Arthur clenched and squeezed and still felt that trickle from where Merlin's flaccid cock was slipping out.

The smell was strong in the air, and Arthur was ashamed, but he loved it. The liquid all over his bare legs chilled him in the breeze but he loved that too, it made him harder and wanting as hot rivulets dribbled from inside him, and he knew that some of it wasn't Merlin's urine, it was his come, and that just made him harder too. He bit his lip and closed his eyes and thought of Gaius, anything to prolong this moment, and when he opened his eyes Merlin was looking at him with an oddly fond expression, which he quickly dropped.

"You've made a mess, chamberpot," he said. "I'm all a mess from pissing on you. Clean me up," he said, gesturing at his own cock.

Arthur shuffled over, and licked at Merlin's limp cock, his loose balls, tasting urine and come, lotion and something else- he guessed it must be his own arse. He couldn't really care, now that he dripped with a combination of all four. When he'd licked all over, Merlin lay back and let him continue over his thighs and legs, following trails left by drips of Merlin's piss until Merlin deemed him finished.

"You're filthy," Merlin said. "Look at you, you smell, you're soaked, you're hard from it like a wolf marking his territory." Merlin looked at him again, carefully. "Is there any more inside you?"

Arthur tried to guess. "Maybe." It looked like that was the right answer.

"Kneel then, try to squeeze it out. I want to see it on your legs like an animal," Merlin said.

Arthur tried not to blush, but knelt and leaned with his forearms against the lone elm tree. He spread his knees and pushed, and felt and embarrassing hot, wet dribble ooze between his legs. He tried to imagine that the arousal was less than the embarrassment, but failed. He tried again, but nothing came out. Again and again he pushed and squeezed, but all it yielded was one tiny drop.

"Gods, you're filthy," Merlin whispered, then said, "You're filthy, and need to be cleaned. Turn around, and I'll piss you clean."

Arthur turned around as fast as he could on his knees, and Merlin peed all over him. It covered his hair, splashed on his chest, and Arthur leaned back to let the last burst hit his face. Finally he couldn't help himself and his hand wrapped around his erection, stroking hard and fast and wet- oh god, wet with Merlin's piss- while he licked his lips and tasted salt. He made an odd, half-muffled sound as he came all over Merlin's feet.

They didn't say much on the way back, but despite the fact that they'd both washed thoroughly in the stream afterwards, Merlin poured him an extra-hot bath that night.


	6. Fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: Food sex, anal sex, and a sticky combination of the two
> 
> May cause fruit cravings.

Merlin noticed a distinct change in how Arthur had been treating him. It wasn't that he was treated better, or his wages increased, or even that Arthur was any nicer than he'd been before. But there were _looks_. Sort of strange, considering side-looks that Arthur had been giving him, and Merlin would have written it off as his overactive imagination, except for two things. First being that his overactive imagination has ended up being some sort of magical evil invasion an uncanny number of times, and the second being that Gwen mentioned him about it. Teased him, really.

"Have you broken something again, Merlin?" She asked.

"What? Not recently, and nothing they'll miss," was his answer.

"Right," Gwen said knowingly. "So then why does Prince Arthur look like he wants to eat you for dinner?" 

"I don't know?" Merlin said.

"I mean, Morgana's always saying you two are shagging like rotten, but I've told her Arthur doesn't shag men, he's too busy chasing all the princesses in a five-day's ride from here," she said, looking vaguely disapproving. "Anyways, you'd tell me if you were, right?"

Merlin's stomach curdled. "Ehm, it's probably just the mashed turnips. You know tubers give him gas," he said, then turned a corner with a quick, "Gotta go!"

So Arthur was looking at him, and what's worse, other people had noticed. And Gwen had been unnervingly close to the truth, as had Morgana. They were shagging, and if Merlin recalled correctly, Arthur wanted to put parts of Merlin in his mouth... though hopefully not bite them off and chew them. The thought made him wince a bit, and cross his legs as he ate.

Still, maybe Arthur was just getting a bit of the spring fever that everyone else in the castle had caught. The days were getting warmer, and the breezes more warm than brisk, but the constant rain meant that most roads were nearly impossible to travel. The early harvests were starting to come in- the first peas and leafy greens were a glad sight to the castle inhabitants- and Merlin couldn't help but wonder when the prince would ask for fruit. Hopefully later, when they'd all had a chance to eat some first.

~o~

It was a warm, lazy day a few weeks later when Arthur brought him back to their corner of the woods. Merlin knew what to expect- the parchment had a very specific list of requirements, and with Arthur that meant one thing. Of course, he remembered when they'd talked about Arthur's wants, and his fantasies. Shame, submission, boots, had all been things he was embarrassed to want. He hadn't wanted to want any of them. But when he'd described the sticky-sweet flavors, the juice and flesh of fruit crushing, he hadn't been embarrassed. He'd smiled.

Merlin had a feeling that pushing this into shame, or making this about power would ruin it. So when they had put down their bags and tied up the mule, Merlin walked right up to Arthur, too close to be mistaken for conversation. He leaned until there was a bare inch, until they were breathing each other's breath, and gave Arthur a moment to pull away. He didn't pull away, so Merlin closed his eyes and kissed him.

Merlin hadn't actually tried to imagine what kissing Arthur would be like. He hadn't really thought he would, since kissing wasn't on the list any more than getting emotionally tangled was, but now he'd done one, so why not the other? And it was actually quite nice. Arthur's lips were firm, not cracked or chapped, and he pressed back into Merlin like he'd been waiting almost as long for this, like he'd wanted it too. Merlin allowed himself a moment to savor the sensation, to breathe with his eyelashes against Arthur's face, before pulling back. Arthur looked a bit stunned, or dizzy, but pleased too.

Rather than wait for conversation or reaction, Merlin unpacked the bags. A wide blanket spread out beneath pears, blueberries, and a jar of blackberry and apple preserves, next to a spoon, a small knife and a bowl. In the same manner, methodically and neatly, Merlin began stripping off his clothes and piling them in one corner.

"You know, Arthur," he said, "you could help." Arthur snapped out of his daze and walked over- kicked his boots off at the edge, rather than tramping pine needles all over, and stopped Merlin. He put his hands on his shoulders, pulled him closer, and kissed Merlin again, slowly and thoroughly, letting their lips drag over one another, licking against Merlin's lips until they parted and their tongues met, hot and slippery in the middle. Merlin felt himself get giddy with excitement, then hot where Arthur's hands roamed over his bare back. Arthur's shirt laces pressed against his chest when they pulled tight together, and he felt Arthur's hot breath on his cheek. They pulled apart, met eyes, kissed again, and again until their lips were swollen and wet, and Merlin felt like giggling, but didn't want to be called a girl.

"I'm not undressing you," he told Arthur, and stripped off his own trousers, but it seemed Arthur knew how to take off his own clothing better than he let on, because soon they were standing naked in front of each other. It occurred to Merlin, and perhaps to Arthur as well, that this was the first time that had happened in all these months. Merlin had done all sorts of things to Arthur, put his fingers in places he'd rather not admit to, but they'd never kissed, or stood naked face to face. It was about two seconds away from being painfully awkward, so Merlin sat down and reached for his props.

"Why did I bring these, I wonder?" He said, looking down at the soft, ripe pear. "It smells marvelous, just delicious. Cook thinks I've packed a lovely picnic, with all these fruits. She hopes we have a nice day," he said, and cracked a grin. "Are you hungry, Arthur?"

"Not for that, moron," Arthur said.

"Then what about this?" Merlin asked innocently. "Would you prefer some blackberry preserves? Last year's blackberries were particularly sweet, if you recall. But wait, where's the bread?"

"Shut up!" Arthur said, and finally gave up and tackled him from a sitting position. Merlin struggled and twisted, and almost got free from sheer wriggliness, but Arthur's years of experience won out. He twisted an arm behind Merlin's back and straddled him, balls on Merlin's back, while Merlin was face-down on the blanket.

"All right! All right, I give up," Merlin said.

"Do you yield?"

"Yes, I yield you prat."

"Then I get to claim my prize," said Arthur. Merlin huffed beneath him.

"And what do you claim, sire?"

"My bread," Arthur said.

"We don't-" Merlin started.

"You shall be my bread," Arthur said, and Merlin hoped that his tone was supposed to be cheerful and seductive rather than cannibalistic.

"And what does bread do?" Merlin asked.

"Bread lays on its back and stays still," Arthur said. "Bread shuts up for once."

Merlin tried to be the very best bread he could be, but when a cold, wet glob of jam landed on his chest, he yelped.

"Bread!" Arthur said.

"This bread would like warning before it gets cold things put on it," Merlin snapped.

"Well, warning," Arthur said, perhaps a bit too late. Then he leaned down, and licked it off with the tip of his tongue. It didn't all come off, though, so Arthur found himself chasing bits of jam across Merlin's chest, lapping and sucking at the purple-blue trails left by wayward seeds. Bread-Merlin would have complained if he hadn't been so distracted by the feeling of Arthur's lips, where they latched onto his nipple and sucked, rubbed, nipped gently with his teeth. He released it, left it reddened and tight, and Merlin arched up a bit, chasing the sensation.

"Warning," Arthur said again, and dropped a piece of berry right onto Merlin's other nipple. He licked all around it, sank his tongue straight through the berry's flesh to taste sweet jam and salty sweat, sucked _hard_ to make Merlin bite his lip and struggle not to moan, swallowed the fruit and made rough circles with the flat of his tongue, then bit down. Merlin howled, and Arthur cut him off with a blackberry kiss.

"Warning," he said again, and Merlin closed his eyes in anticipation. A chilly drop fell on the tip of his cock, followed by a hot tongue and the suction of lips- a warm, wet, sucking kiss to the head of his prick, and he moaned out loud. The lips pulled back.

"Warning," Arthur said again, and a cool line dripped its way from tip to base. Arthur's mouth followed it, laying rows of sloppy kisses along the sides of his cock, taking as much as he could in his mouth. It wasn't much, but from how Arthur's lips circled the head, how he wrapped his tongue around the width of his cock like it was something to savor, how he sucked and lapped and hummed in satisfaction, Merlin could guess that his inexperience came from lack of opportunity, not lack of enthusiasm. He felt Arthur suck, and felt like his entire body was being pulled through his cock. God, he loved being bread... until Arthur pulled back.

"Why did you stop?" Merlin asked, perhaps a bit petulantly.

"Because I want you to fuck me later, hard," Arthur said, and there really wasn't any arguing with that.

"Can I have a turn?" Merlin asked

"Turn with what?"

"Making you crazy," Merlin said.

"You already do on a daily basis," Arthur said.

"I want to open you up and stick my fingers in your butt, and then shove fruit inside you until you're ready to cry," said Merlin. 

Arthur swallowed, blinked, and then said, "Okay."

"Right," Merlin said, and took a moment to figure out the angles. "Then, let's lay down. You lay down, on your front." Merlin got the now-familiar jar of lotion out, and cut the first pear in half. When he turned around, Arthur was laying on his belly with his legs spread wide, his head resting on his arms. He lay the jar on the flat of Arthur's back, and Arthur said nothing, but shifted his legs a bit wider

"You know," Merlin said, as he oiled his first finger, "you never told me if you do this on your own." He rubbed the oil into the skin around Arthur's anus, massaging the muscle without penetrating. "Do you wank often?"

"Do you?" Arthur asked. Merlin spiralled his fingertip in tight circles, towards Arthur's opening, then out. Teasing.

"I asked first," he said.

"I'm prince, you tell me," Arthur said.

"Fine," said Merlin, "Prat." He added more oil before teasing some more, pushing the back of his finger against Arthur's hole, too big to fit in yet, circling to make Arthur stretch and flex like a giant cat. "I do it about once a week, less when someone's trying to kill you," he said.

"A few times a week," Arthur said, "unless I'm injured or someone's visiting and I'm busy."

Merlin let his finger penetrate, and Arthur breathed in sharply. "Okay?" He asked.

"Fine," Arthur said. "More." For once Merlin was obedient, and pulled out the one finger to return with two. They slid in easily, slippery and familiar.

"Do you do this when you wank?" Merlin asked.

"What, put my fingers inside?" Arthur said.

"Yeah, like you're fucking yourself."

"No," Arthur said, and then, "Nhmm," as Merlin began to move slowly inside him. "Do you?"

"Sometimes," Merlin said. "Not usually, since I don't have Gaius's fancy oils. He wouldn't let me just use them without a reason, and I don't really want to ask-"

"Gods, no," Arthur said.

"But when I do, it's amazing," Merlin finished. He pushed his fingers as far as he could, and ached at the squeeze of Arthur's muscles on his fingers, knowing his cock would be there soon, but not yet.

"More," Arthur demanded.

"You know, you're bossy, for someone in your position," said Merlin, but he oiled up again and pushed three fingers inside, and Arthur pushed his face into the blanket as he moaned. "Hold still," Merlin said, "you'll spill the lotion, and then where will we be?"

"So move the lotion," Arthur gritted out. Once it was off his back he arched up, shoving backwards onto Merlin's fingers, and Merlin had to push back harder than he'd usually do. "More," Arthur said. "More."

"You're needy today," Merlin said, and Arthur almost growled. "Hold still! I have a plan." Arthur relaxed a bit, released some of the crushing pressure on Merlin's fingers, and lay flat on the ground. Merlin pulled his fingers out altogether to cut a long, thick slice out of the pear, and when Arthur looked back to protest, his expression quickly changed from impatient to wanting.

"I think, Merlin, that you mean I have a plan, which you are implementing."

"Only you would use a word like 'implementing' right now," Merlin said as a response. He took a bite off the slice he'd just cut. "It's a good one. Ripe." Arthur buried his face in his arms again, and pressed his arse in the air.

Merlin licked his lips- the pear really was delicious- and looked at the scene presented. Arthur's legs were spread wide, his anus winking, pink and wet from oil. He put two fingers back inside, scissoring them back and forth to stretch the pliant muscle, and when Arthur was thrusting into the ground and his fingers met little resistance, he pulled them out, and replaced them with the chunk of pear. He hardly had to push and it was in, disappearing into Arthur's body quickly and easily.

"More," he heard Arthur murmur, so he cut another thick slice of pear, removed the core, and pushed. It was narrow at the tip, and he fucked Arthur with it a few times, enjoying the image and the sounds Arthur made, then pushed it deeper until the thickest part was through and it, too disappeared, leaving only a bit of juice where it had passed. Curiosity seized him, and he leaned in, smelled the juice on Arthur's skin. He pulled Arthur's arse wide, pressed his face intimately close, and tasted.

"Merlin!" Arthur said. "You can't- it's dirty!"

"You taste of pears," Merlin said, and licked his lips.

"You'll be the death of me," Arthur said, sounding strangled.

"More?" Said Merlin, already preparing the next slices.

"Mh, yes," Arthur said. Merlin experimented. He put the big end first, pulling out and pushing in; he made a smaller slice, and used two fingers to stretch Arthur open before squeezing it in alongside, juice and bits of fruit dripping down over Arthur's balls; he tried to use his mouth, but ended up eating most of that slice himself while Arthur's arse gripped the other end. Oddly enough Arthur didn't mind the variety, and by the time he had most of a pear crushed inside his body, he was pleading.

"More, gods Merlin, I need more, don't stop, please."

"Yes, Arthur, yes, I'll give it to you, anything, of course."

"Fuck me Merlin, I want you to, fuck me-"

"Yes-"

"Fuck-"

"Anything-"

"Now-"

Merlin grabbed Arthur by the hips, lifted him until they were both on their knees, Merlin's arms keeping Arthur from bending face-down to the ground. He oiled up his cock, though it hardly seemed necessary, and thrust into Arthur, who moaned and bucked back. He slid easily in the mixture of juice and oil, fruit pressing against his cock and being crushed as they moved, first slowly then faster. Merlin was vaguely aware of wet, squelching noises as he thrust into Arthur, pulp dripping down his cock, down Arthur's thighs, into the space between them. Arthur was clenching, gasping, shaking, leaning back so his back rubbed on Merlin's chest. The space inside Arthur was liquid and sliding and hot, but tight, and he heard Arthur-

"Yes, Merlin, yes, more, like that, don't stop, fuck-"

\- and knew he was making noise himself, but didn't think it was words so much as sounds. He lost track of everything but the smell of heavy sweat and pears as he bit into Arthur's neck and came in spurts, tensing and jerking as hot waves of pleasure crashed over him. He was still slowly thrusting, drawing out the last few sensations when he felt Arthur's orgasm start, his body convulsing in Merlin's arms, around Merlin's cock, before Arthur finally went lax, and they lay down on the blanket as their sweat dried.

~o~

Merlin woke up to the feeling of lips on his shoulder. He turned, and saw the sleep-mussed blonde head of Arthur looking up at him.

"Morning," Merlin said, then frowned. "Afternoon."

"We are really sticky," Arthur said. Merlin shifted a bit, then grimaced.

"Yes, I think you may be right."

"We should wash off."

"Excellent idea," Merlin said, and they went to the stream, water running a bit lower now than it had been in spring, to rinse off most of the offending substances. Merlin glanced over to where Arthur was trying, ineffectively, to wash pear juice off the insides of his thighs.

"Do you need help, Arthur?" He asked.

"No," he said, but continued to surreptitiously struggle.

"Oh for Pete's sake," Merlin muttered, and shuffled over to help. Washing a mixture of fruit juice and semen off of someone else's body is surprisingly intimate, and Merlin found himself noticing the softness of his hair, the pucker of Arthur's balls where they shrunk under cold water, the pattern of his breath while he submitted to this task that he couldn't quite do alone.

"There," he said after, "was that so bad?" As an answer, Arthur kissed him again. Merlin smiled, and headed back to their clearing.

When Arthur returned, they got dressed and ate blueberries. Merlin never found out what their intended use was, and Arthur never told him, and they spent the rest of the day hunting for find something to bring back for the kitchens, but all they got were sunburns.


	7. The List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in the story. The next chapter is an overlapping scene from 'Boots.'

Merlin spent a good month waiting for the next note. Arthur kept giving him _looks_ , but according to Gwen they were less 'I want to eat you' and more curious. Well, Merlin was curious too. What was Arthur waiting for? And then he realized- they weren't waiting for anything. That original list of Fruit-Boots-Oil-Fingers-Penetration-Submission-Shame was all used up, so theoretically they were done. Finished.

It came as a bit of a shock to Merlin. Once he'd gotten past the surprise that he'd ended up in this situation at all, he'd never thought about ending it. He rather liked this new relationship. He liked knowing what Arthur looked like as he collapsed, exhausted and emotionally wrecked. He liked taking control sometimes, and knowing when he needed to let Arthur lead. He liked- loved the feeling of Arthur's skin, and how his muscles felt when they tensed and moved beneath. So though it was a shock that Arthur intended to end their extracurricular activities, it was no shock when Merlin decided that he'd fight him every inch of the way.

But how?

He knew that Arthur would have him flayed, drawn, quartered and fed to the pigs if he ever told anyone what they'd been up to, and he sure as hell wasn't asking Gaius for advice (Gaius wasn't 'anyone,' but he _was_ his uncle), and Kilgarrah would probably laugh until Uther married a pixie if Merlin asked him for advice, so he asked Gwen. On reflection, he should have guessed what she'd say.

~o~

"What would you do, if, for example, there was someone you wanted to convince to stay around a bit more?"

"Who would this person be?" Gwen asked.

"Oh, it's nobody really. It's a friend. A friend of a friend. In Ealdor."

"Oh really." Gwen said, in a surprisingly unconvinced voice for someone who was being so earnestly lied to.

"Yeah, you never met him. But he's having some trouble, because someone's trying to leave him behind a little, spend less time, and he doesn't want to."

"Is your friend having friend troubles, or lady troubles?"

"Eh, a little of both I'd guess," Merlin said, and tried to imagine what Arthur would think if he knew he'd just been called a little bit of a lady. His smile must have shown a bit, because Gwen looked a bit more canny.

"Do you have a lady friend, Merlin?"

"No! No, it's my friend, and he doesn't have a lady friend, he has a friend-friend, who might have lady problems, and Gwen just what would you do?"

Gwen sighed sympathetically. "If they're friends, then this person likes your friend because of who he is. He should just be himself, and if he wants to impress, maybe do something nice. Bring flowers, or help her with chores or something. It's really that simple," Gwen said, patted him on the head, and went on her way.

Her advice was basic, and probably good for someone, but completely unhelpful here. Arthur really did like him, he knew. He just needed to be convinced to keep fucking! How many blokes had this problem, Merlin wondered, before deciding that he was the unluckiest warlock in all of Albion. It was hopeless. 

Maybe Gwaine could help. He'd been helpful enough about the boots thing, after all.

~o~

"So, Gwaine," he said.

"Merlin!" Gwaine said. "What brings you round looking so uncomfortable?"

"I have a question, and it's sort of private. Can we... talk?"

"Got somebody up the duff then? Can't help you mate, you gotta either run or marry her."

"What? No! Just, let's take a walk," Merlin said, and they ended up on the parapets, far enough away from the guards on duty that they could talk without being heard.

"Alright, so what's your problem?" Gwaine asked.

"There's this... person. A person I like. Love, maybe. But this person's started keeping their distance, and I think they like me but they're just not saying it, and he's- uh-"

Gwaine broke into a grin. "He's, eh? Don't worry, you're safe enough with me. I'm hardly gonna judge, am I? I'd wondered about our quiet Merlin, anyways. You do seem like you're carrying the world on your shoulders, sometimes," he said. "So, no lady problems, but your mate's backing out."

Merlin nodded.

"Have you considered maybe he's feeling the push? Family's trying to get him to marry? Feeling pressure to look available to the ladies?"

"... sort of," he said. He really hadn't, which was embarrassing. Fine warlock he'd make!

"Hm," Gwaine said knowingly. "Well, my guess is he feels like he's got to stop for some reason, whether the reason's real or not."

"Yeah, could be," Merlin said, thinking. "I've got to go, Gwaine, thanks." He started to leave, but Gwaine interrupted.

"Oy Merlin, this bloke of yours," he said, "Do I know him?" Merlin blushed up to the roots of his hair and ran off, Gwaine's triumphant laughter following him away.

Merlin had the uncomfortable feeling that Gwaine was right- Arthur felt like he had a duty to end things with Merlin, for whatever reason. And while Merlin didn't speak dollophead, or even try to understand how Arthur's mind worked on a day-to-day level, he knew one thing. The only way Arthur understood anything was if it was presented on the end of a sword, or yelled right in his face. Well, servants didn't have swords, but Merlin talked enough for seven people in Camelot, so he started making a plan.

He planned, and he planned, and then he stole parchment. Finally one morning he came early with Arthur's breakfast, and next to the bread and apples and meat there was a list:  
 __  
Blanket  
Fingers  
Lips  
Thighs  
Chain mail  
Honeycakes  
Arms  


Arthur read it, looked at Merlin, tried not to smile, and failed. And they all lived happily ever after.

 

The End.


	8. Extra scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More sex, less anything else  
> Kinks: Feet, fingering, D/s elements

"These boots are filthy, Arthur. This is pathetic. I think you're the worst servant ever to walk the earth."

Arthur neither protested nor agreed, silent as he waited for Merlin's next move.

"Service as terrible as this deserves some sort of repercussion. The stocks are too good for you. No, I think you need something unique. Hands and knees, on the floor," Merlin said, and when Arthur complied, he pulled his legs even farther apart. "No, even lower. Put your face against the ground. Spread your legs wide. I want you on the ground, like the shoes you failed to polish."

Arthur pressed himself into the cloth, shoulders, elbows, wrists and cheek flat. He spread his knees and feet as wide as he could and Merlin growled internally to see Arthur so submissive before him. Merlin knelt, and saw Arthur's genitals exposed to him- wrinkled hole, balls and hard cock hanging in the air under his belly. He remembered his fantasy, Arthur's gasped-out desire to be taken, and took some lotion in hand.

"You're so bad at polishing, you can barely even clean yourself," he growled. "You're filthy, right here." He rubbed oil into Arthur's anus, and into the soft skin of the crack of his arse. He took Arthur's balls gently, held them in his oily palm and massaged them, tugged lightly, and used his other hand to stroke across Arthur's tight hole.

"You're so tight, so tense I bet you've never even washed here," he said. "Well, I'll show you how, right now." Arthur pushed back against his fingers, and Merlin released him.

"Arms to the ground, face to the ground. Stay down," he said, and pushed Arthur's shoulders into the stones for good measure. Arthur let out a slow, choked breath that made the cloth flutter. Merlin oiled up his first finger, and pushed inside firmly. Arthur grunted and jerked up again, and Merlin tutted.

"This is punishment, not a reward. I'm not going to go easy on you, and if you can't stay down I'm going to hold you there," he said. "Do you need to be held down?" He asked, desperately hoping Arthur would say yes. He was disappointed when Arthur's eyes slid closed and he shook his head against the floor. His back arched unnaturally as he pushed his shoulders back to the floor, muscles shaking with the effort.

"Fine, but I expect no more disobedience," Merlin said. He circled the finger inside Arthur, feeling the muscles squeeze tight and gradually relax as Arthur took slow, deep breaths. "Good," he said, and pulled out. He returned with two fingers, pushed in a bit slower but no less deeply, and felt Arthur shiver around him. Merlin shivered with him as he turned his hand, scissored his fingers, and even tried to pull them apart against the pressure inside Arthur's body. At last Arthur broke again and arched his back, lifting his shoulders from the ground even as his face and arms stayed low. 

Merlin took pity on his prince and the cramps he would no doubt acquire before much longer, and said, "If you can't stay down like I asked, I'll treat you like the disobedient puppy you are." He molded Arthur's body, pulling his shoulders up, letting his forehead rest on the floor, bringing his legs a little closer together until he was stable. Then he straddled him backwards, one leg on either side of Arthur's ribs and his bare feet on either side of Arthur's face. If he turned around he saw Arthur's head hanging between strong shoulders, and if he leaned forward he saw his pink, oiled hole.

"Now will you obey?" He asked, "Will you take your punishment?"

"Yes," Arthur mumbled, and Merlin felt his lips tickle the bottoms of his feet. He suppressed the urge to twist by leaning on Arthur's hips and finding Arthur's hole, thrusting his two fingers inside that tight heat. Arthur tensed and huffed, and tickled Merlin again with his breath, and he thrust in again. It could have continued, breathing and tickling and fingers pressing inwards, except that Arthur bit his lip and suppressed any sound the second time. Merlin added yet more slick and fucked into him with three fingers, slowly and deep as he could go, in and out to enjoy the slippery heat on his fingers more than anything else. Arthur's breath came heavily between his knees, moaning low vibrations into his thighs, and when his tongue came out to lick his lips, he got Merlin's feet as well. Merlin stopped moving.

"Do that again. Lick my feet while I fuck you," he said, and Arthur moaned outright at the command. He opened his mouth eagerly, and when Merlin's fingers went back inside him, he licked and gasped and moaned around Merlin's toes. He sucked on each one, and Merlin tilted his hips in rhythm with his fingers, grinding against Arthur's back while he fucked him open. He spared a brief thought for Arthur's spine, but from the way his prince was nipping, licking, and whining when Merlin thrust inside him, he guessed that he was fine.

Merlin tilted, leaning forward to get his face closer to where his fingers penetrated Arthur's eager hole, and the angle brought his cock into contact with Arthur's shoulders. His hips jolted and he pressed down, desperate for more contact. Arthur obliged by pushing up with his shoulders and upper back, even though this brought his face off the floor. Merlin leaned further forward to grind his cock into the Arthur's arched spine, and his nose was filled with the scent of Arthur's soap and the oil they used to ease the way. He bit into Arthur's ass without thinking, gasped against the muscle and licked. He used both hands to shove two fingers from each hand in, stretching Arthur yet more and pulling another loud moan from the man he was riding.

Merlin was so turned on by it- his crushed fingers, his feet being laved by Arthur's greedy tongue again, the feel of Arthur's shoulders where they pressed together in disjointed rhythm, the sound and sight of Arthur just giving in and giving over to him, that he found himself plunging his tongue into Arthur's hole and rutting urgently into his shoulders, taking what Arthur was willing to give until he came in his trousers, hard. His hands tensed and relaxed, as he dug his hands into the thick muscles of Arthur's thighs and licked over and over his abused hole, hardly caring that this was supposed to be 'punishment' for Arthur, not sex between equals.

When he swam back to reality he swung his legs off Arthur, leaving him hot and panting on the cloth they'd set as their boundary. Arthur looked up at him, still hard and desperate and waiting, waiting for an order or command or even permission to do anything but sweat and lick his reddened lips.

"Roll over," Merlin said. "On your back, knees up towards me."

Arthur scrambled to obey, laying diagonally across his rumpled square.

"Now touch yourself for me. Like you do when you're alone, touch yourself so I can watch."

He did not need to be told twice. Arthur took his cock in one hand, the other going to rub and pinch his nipples, and he let out a loud, long sound of relief as he began to stroke himself. His other hand went up to his face- he bit a knuckle, then pulled his own hair so his head bent back as he came with a shout, come covering his fist as he twitched and his toes curled and uncurled in front of Merlin. As Arthur's breath slowed and his body relaxed, he let his legs unbend and fall off the edge of the cloth.

Lucky for them, they had a wet cloth right beside them, mildly soiled as it may have been from Merlin's feet and Arthur's bath. (Merlin would argue that his feet probably just made it cleaner after being rubbed all over Arthur's post-practice body, but in any case it was cleaner than either of them at that moment.) He took the washcloth and wiped them both off as best he could before replacing it in the wash basin. As he fed the fire and put away the lotion, Arthur slowly recovered enough to sit on his bed.

"Merlin," he said, "stop." Merlin turned. "Sit down. Lay down. Come to bed."

"Sire?"

"Just, come to bed," Arthur said, and there was a certain vulnerability there that Merlin was unaccustomed to. He took off his shirt and trousers, and tucked them both into bed.

In the morning he woke warm and sated, and happy until Arthur pointed out that he was late for breakfast _as usual_ and truly he was incompetent. If Merlin grumbled slightly less than usual, it was clearly a coincidence.


End file.
